


Glinting Graces

by Ladiladida



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Dreaming, F/M, Friendship, Longing, Robin loves cormoran, Secrets, Sex, Sleep, cormoran loves robin, fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 03:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17973908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladiladida/pseuds/Ladiladida
Summary: When they can’t have what they want, they dream. Yet neither realise that that pull they feel, that gravity, is mutual.





	Glinting Graces

_Let me embrace, embracing you, Beauty of other shape and hue, Odd glinting graces of which none Shone more than candle to your sun._

**Valentine, Robert Graves**

Forehead pressed against cold tiles of the shower stall, the hot spray of water streaming over his skin. Cormoran was released for a split second. Tipping himself over the edge in vivid fantasies of her, his body was still shuddering as the harsh reality hit him. It was only in his mind, she wasn’t with him, not around him. His imaginings of her glistening forehead pressed against his, skin warm on skin, as she cried into him was not real. The ache, the hole, consuming ache tore into him. Robin, the gravity pull in his life, Robin.

There was no drag of nails across his shoulders as she clung to him, no delicious fluidity of her hips, no being enveloped in hot, silken depths. He was alone beneath the spray of the shower, the residue of his shameful imaginings washed away, as was his momentary happiness. Only moments ago, he was sure he could feel the smooth skin beneath his fingertips as they had ghosted down her back, feeling the faint ridges of her spine. His large hands felt the curving indent of her waist, before grasping her hips as she writhed above him.

The loss of this fantasy hit hard, the loss of his name cried pressed against skin at the heights of her passion was now a phantom. This was hell. Imagining what would never happen was like being cast from Eden. Stepping from the stall, his hands supported his weight and he went through the motions of this usual routine before bed. As he slid beneath the cool, fresh sheets, the moonlight coldly illuminating the room, Cormoran stared at the ceiling until his mind acquiesced.

Robin rolled over, her eyes slowly opening as she acclimatised to the darkness around her. The feel of a hand stroking the skin of her back had tingling prickles flooding her flesh. The hand skimmed teasingly over her hip. Its ministrations, slow yet purposeful sent electric heat to her core. The goosebumps rose and her breathing faltered, desire raging. At last, she turned into the arms of the tempting touch and the strong, demanding hands and disarming lips took her to another place.

 _Cormoran_ , she whispered into the darkness, her back arched off the bed as euphoria glistened all over her. But it didn’t last. There was something hollow in its after thought unlike its delicious duration. Hair splayed about her, breathing regulating, she felt the electricity of her lustful dream leave her.

The imagining of his strong hips, pistoning against her, he inside her. The image of his rhythm and composure splintering as her name tumbled from his lips had tipped her over the edge. His strength might have intimidated her were it anyone else. But Robin couldn’t deny that is was part of the reason her hand skimmed downward to lose herself in thoughts of him. These feelings had drawn out fibres of her that knitted into something strong and intoxicating, a secret side of herself she should be ashamed of she was sure. But she wasn’t, she was only alone.

Only moments earlier so vivid was the idea of Cormoran in her bed. Now she had only the realisation that he was not likely thinking of her in that way.

In his dream that night, Cormoran hears her laughing in the adjoining office. The sound so familiar and wonderful, it always gave him hope. If he dreamt of her smile too that night, then that would be bliss indeed. In Robin’s slumber, Cormoran looked up at her as she entered the pub, his eyes brightening as glasses clinked around them. A feeling of understanding between them.

Such dreams of odd glinting graces after carnal fantasies soothed them until their alarms beckoned them back to reality. Then the day would begin again, the masks of friendship concealing the dreaming. Each the other’s axis, terrified to tip it off balance.


End file.
